Chapter 575: Carnival of Desire [7]

A pale yellow beam of light shone straight down into the sandy arena, yet the circus grounds did not become any warmer. On the contrary, the atmosphere grew even more oppressive, thick with the stench of rotting flesh mingled with the sickening sweetness of spoiled cotton candy.

From behind the ragged red velvet curtain backstage, a lanky man stepped out. He wore a dark-purple tailcoat covered in black stains, with a crooked top hat perched on his head. His face was caked in a thick layer of deathly white makeup. His mouth, painted a garish crimson, stretched wide all the way to his ears, revealing rows of sharp, twisted iron teeth.

On the Ringmaster’s chest, his silver badge was completely warped, with a glaring red number prominently displayed upon it: -200.

"Welcome! Welcome, esteemed guests, to the Night Circus!"

He raised his two spindly arms like dry branches and spoke in a booming voice like sheets of iron violently crashing against one another: "I am Ringmaster Jack! It is my great pleasure to serve you brave visitors today!"

His bloodshot eyes swept over the two groups of players who had just entered. His gaze stopped on Lily and the members of the Themisia Guild, then moved across the group of independent players accompanying them.

Lily stood in the upper row of seats, her hand gripping the hilt of her short sword tightly, her gaze cold and utterly unmoving. The pollution lingering in the air took the form of murky gray wisps of smoke swirling around her feet, yet she did not move even an inch.

Ringmaster Jack bent forward at a perfect ninety-degree angle. The top hat on his head fell off, only to automatically fly back onto the crown of his head. He curled his lips into a twisted smile, the flesh at both corners of his mouth splitting into streaks of gray:

"According to the park’s regulations, in order to receive the Satisfaction Commemorative Coin, you must complete the performance The Priest and the Pack of Wolves, hosted by yours truly! However..."

He paused and tilted his neck, producing a dry crack... crack... The grotesquely blood-red eyes swept across the entire cast of rag dolls, who were enthusiastically clapping clap... clap... clap... from the stands.

"What a pity! Our circus is missing its most important opening act today — The Golden Dragon Massacre! Without a warm-up performance, the wolves won’t be excited enough to come onto the stage..."

He let out a deliberately fake sigh, rubbing his hands together clumsily. "If there are no performers registered for the opening act, then I suppose I’ll just have to randomly invite one team of players to come up and perform alongside me."

Below the stands, the ragged rag dolls abruptly stopped clapping. In unison, they turned their black-thread-stitched heads toward Lily and the group of independent players, their plastic-button eyes flashing with an eerie red glow.

TING!

[System]: Warning! Emergency event activated in the Night Circus Sector.

The group of independent players accompanying Lily immediately panicked. A man whose face had gone deathly pale cried out shakily, "Why are all the missions this time mandatory?!"

Along with his frustrated outburst, the number displayed on his chest also stopped at 65. Compared to everyone else, his number was obviously the lowest.

Lily frowned, her slender fingers lightly tapping the hilt of her sword. She glanced at the number 92 on her chest. The 60-second countdown had already begun ticking away in midair.

[Finally, we’re going to get some bloodshed lmao!]

[I’ve been waiting for this moment too!]

[Why do I feel like the name of this act was made specifically for Adrian’s group?]

Just then, Ringmaster Jack’s booming voice suddenly rang out once again.

"The 60 seconds of consideration are over! What a pity, not a single brave guest volunteered to sign up!" Ringmaster Jack threw his head back and laughed gleefully, his laughter as horrifying as rusted metal being violently scraped against itself. He swung his silver-coated conductor’s baton into the air. "Then, according to the rules of the Night Circus, the act The Golden Dragon Massacre shall begin by random draw!"

CRACK... CLACK!

The instant he swung the baton, rings of iron chains covered in bloodstained rust suddenly sprouted from beneath the black wooden seats where the players were sitting. They twisted like venomous snakes, wrapping tightly around each player’s ankles and wrists and forcing their bodies down against the seats.

"What the hell is this?!" The man bearing the number 65 shouted in panic, desperately flailing his arms and legs. But the chains, covered in sharp spikes, immediately tightened, digging deep into his flesh and sending fresh blood spraying everywhere.

It wasn’t just him. Lily, every member of the Themisia Guild, and the remaining independent players all realized in shock that their bodies had been completely pinned to their seats. No matter whether they tried to use their strength or activate their skills, the force emanating from the seats suppressed every trace of energy within their bodies, reducing them all to helpless invalids who could do nothing but sit there and watch.

"Now, be good little spectators and sit still, won’t you~" Ringmaster Jack bent forward, the smile on his face stretching all the way to his ears as his thin, bony arm pointed straight at the two independent players sitting in the left corner. "Our first lucky pair to take the stage... is you two!"

CLANG!

The iron chains binding the seats of the two independent players—the man bearing the number 65 and his companion bearing the number 78—suddenly released on their own. But an enormous invisible force immediately seized both of them and dragged them straight from the stands, sending them flying down into the sandy pit below.

"No! Let me go! I don’t want to perform! Let me out!!" The man bearing the number 65 screamed and sobbed desperately, clawing at the sand with both hands and leaving smeared trails of blood behind.

"Come here, my props!" Ringmaster Jack curled his lips into a grin. He calmly pulled a gigantic pair of iron scissors, more than two meters long, from beneath his tailcoat.

Amid the frenzied, horrifying clap... clap... clap... of thousands of rag dolls in the stands, Ringmaster Jack moved as swiftly as a ghost. He appeared directly behind the player bearing the number 78, and the two razor-sharp blades immediately slammed shut!

SNAP!

A horrific tearing sound rang out. The head of the player bearing the number 78 shot into the air, fresh blood spraying like a crimson fountain and staining a wide patch of sand red. His body crumpled to the ground, twitching several times before becoming completely still.

"A A A A A!" The man bearing the number 65 completely broke down at the sight before him, tears and mucus streaming down his face. He tried to crawl backward, but Ringmaster Jack had already stepped forward and planted his iron boot firmly against the man’s chest.

The Ringmaster lowered his head and looked down at him, his deathly white-painted face flashing with a hint of frenzied brutality. He reached out and clamped a hand around the man’s chin, seized his trembling tongue, and gave it a vicious yank!

RIP!

The sound of flesh tearing apart, combined with the victim’s muffled, choking cries, caused the air inside the circus to grow thick with the overpowering stench of blood. Ringmaster Jack casually tossed the blood-soaked tongue into the mouth of the nearest doll, then swung his scissors down and split the man’s body in two, sending his entrails and organs splattering across the sand...

It was a performance consisting of nothing but bloodshed. Clearly, he had never actually intended to find a partner in the first place...